The Greater
by Sathaeri
Summary: Skyrim: Jarl Balgruuf and Irileth, in a normal day attending court... for the most part. Featuring Farengar, Proventus, a cranky old maid, and one surprise visitor. Oneshot.


"Irileth, sit down. By the Gods, just looking at you is making my feet ache."

Irileth stopped pacing for a brief moment and looked sternly at the Jarl. "My lord, if it happens, then sore feet will be the least of your worries."

"Ehh. Depends on whether or not I'll be running when it does."

"_If_ it does," she corrected. "And I'm nearly certain that it won't."

"Hmph," the Jarl grunted. "You were always a tough nut to crack when it came to legends."

She crossed her arms. "Legends or not, I know what threats are real and what aren't. Seeing is believing."

"Ah, but just because you haven't actually _seen_ a dragon doesn't mean it doesn't exist." He casually leaned back in his throne. "You heard the news, I hope? About Helgen?"

"I did, my lord."

"And what do you think of it?"

"It sounds..." Irileth stopped. She didn't like claiming she believed in something she hadn't even witnessed, but the reports... either all the survivors were too traumatized to tell it was something other than a dragon, they were all conspiring to bring dragons back and so claimed that they'd seen one, or there really _had_ been one. It would explain the lack of survivors and the influx of refugees from Helgen, that was certain. But it still didn't feel... right to claim it was real before she'd seen one with her own eyes. "It's strange news, Balgruuf," she admitted. "I'm not saying they're real, but... I suppose it sounds likely."

The Jarl grunted again. "Progress."

Another silence darted in, smothering the conversation. Irileth rather didn't mind. The Jarl had always been a man of few words. He was the type of person for which a situation would become painfully awkward if the conversation dragged on for too long. Oftentimes he dismissed visitors who carried on talking by simply saying, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a city to keep." She smirked. The same old Balgruuf. He never changed.

At that moment Proventus glided in, followed at the heels by Farengar. "My Jarl," he called. "Farengar wants a word with you."

"'A word' is always available," said Jarl Balgruuf. "Can't say I'll give any more than that." Irileth suppressed a snigger.

Farengar bowed deeply in front of him before starting. "My lord," he said. "I have looked into these dragons the people are speaking of, and I need something for my research." He paused.

Balgruuf lazily motioned with his hand. "Continue."

"R-right. I need someone to go to Bleak Falls Barrow and retrieve a stone for me."

"This is what you wanted to say?" he asked. "You need a courier?"

"Not just a courier, my lord. Bleak Falls Barrow is a dangerous place. Who knows what kinds of horrible things lurk inside?"

"And?" The Jarl cracked his knuckles idly. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Er – find someone to help me, I suppose."

Balgruuf sighed. "You're a wizard, Farengar."

"Are you suggesting that I do this task myself? Of course not!" Farengar huffed. "You need my assistance here should the dragon attack Whiterun. And besides, I have more important things to do than run off looking for an ancient artifact hidden in a dungeon full of treacherous traps and maybe an undead or two."

"Tell me this," Balgruuf said. "Why are you asking me about it?"

"I just wanted to know if you had someone available to help me."

"We could ask Lydia to do it," Irileth suggested, not trying to hide her disgust, or not hiding it well.

The Jarl shook his head. "Lydia is not an expendable resource. She is needed here."

"Then considering what Farengar has said about the place, unless we can afford to send in an entire battalion of soldiers, I don't think we can help."

Proventus shot her a look, as if saying _I'm the real advisor here,_ but quickly composed himself. "I must say, I agree," he groveled. "We need our soldiers patrolling here. We can't send them off for some lost cause."

"_'Lost cause'?_" Farengar was taken aback. "It is not! A truly _noble_ cause, that's what it is!" He crossed his arms, pouting under the hood. "I thought you said you'd help me!"

"I said I'd _try_," Proventus answered. "And see, I tried. No luck."

"Noble as your cause is, Farengar," Balgruuf the Greater said in his booming voice, silencing the rest of them, "we cannot afford to send anybody to retrieve it. I'm sorry."

Farengar sighed, his shoulders drooping. "Fine."

"If I do find someone, I'll send them to you," he offered.

"Right," the wizard said, his voice diminishing as he shuffled dejectedly back to his office. "Now I'll just expect a rugged warrior to stride in here like he owns the place trailing mud tracks all over the clean floor and saying he's 'special' and 'kills dragons for fun.' _Pffft._ Like that will happen."

As soon as he was out of earshot, Irileth leaned towards her friend and whispered, "He's an odd lad, isn't he?"

"Odd indeed," Balgruuf replied. "But a damn good wizard, too."

Silence again. Irileth basked in its nonjudgmental air. Sometimes a little quiet was all she needed to–

"Watch where you step!" Gerda's crabby voice rang out from the far end of the hall. "Stop walking with those dirty boots all over my floor!"

Irileth heard the sound of a less-than-friendly broom. _Thwack._ She could have sworn she heard a chuckle instead of a groan. Strange. Gerda's broom-spankings could hurt an awful lot.

"Sorry, miss," a deep voice said. "Excuse me."

"At least you have manners," the elderly maid squawked after him.

Irileth placed a ready hand on the hilt of her longsword as the visitor climbed the steps. She squinted to see him.

The man's face was obscured by an iron helmet, but she could still tell a couple things from him. Dark hair, brown like dirt, fell to his shoulders, which were broad and muscular. His armor looked well-worn, like he had been in a fight or two on his way there. A broadsword was strapped in its hilt on his belt, and he held a shield in his other hand. A warrior, then. Irileth unsheathed her weapon out of caution.

Balgruuf simply chuckled. "Someone get Farengar," he said. "I think we've found our courier."

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN:_**_ Part of a one-shot series revolving around Skyrim. I try not to include Dovahkiin in these, since everyone's Dovahkiin is different, but... in this case I used the default-ish Dragonborn. He's cute :)_

_I also hope I kept the characters... well, in-character. You don't really get a whole lot of personality from them, but I wanted to emphasize some qualities that seemed to stick out, and add a couple of my own. Let me know what you think._

_Anyhow, thank you for reading, and I hope you have a pleasant day. :)_


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